


the bet

by baby_modz



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blindfolds, Dom/sub Undertones, Established relationship?, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Restraints, Smut, Teasing, Winner Takes It All, challenge gone wrong?, dom/sub does not mean top/bottom, dtao3, edging?, friends with benefits?, no beta we die like men, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baby_modz/pseuds/baby_modz
Summary: It was a bet, again.Wasn't it always a bet, anyway? But what could be more fun than spice things up with a challenge, especially when the results could be so... attractive.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 428
Collections: MCYT





	the bet

Yes, it was a bet.

_Again_.

Would he ever learn that upping the competition with a deal was dangerous with these types of challenges? Most of it was luck based, if you really thought about it. He would have had better chances betting on a manhunt than on block shuffle. He knew it, too. But he had won the last three games! And with much difficult starts than the one he had gotten that day! How was he supposed to know that he would have gotten the damn anvil while he was stuck in the nether, no diamond in his inventory, and no portal because a competitive bastard decided it was legit to come destroy it while searching for blaze rods to complete the stupid brewing stand he was he was supposed to get on. Finished crafting it in the last 10 seconds, just to be shot down directly after, as the game announced his block. Anvil. He didn’t have enough iron to craft that, very far from it. He doubted he would have the time, in five minutes, to either loot enough fortress chests (would never succeed) or find a bastion remnant (he didn’t see any and he was quite a few blocks away from his portal) and craft the damn thing. But not only that, he could not go back to the surface. Oh sure he could, maybe, potentially but doubtfully, find 3 diamonds in the fortress, but he only had one stick, and no plank left. He would have to find a nether forest biome, which he didn’t see either on his way to the fortress, then do a pickaxe, go in the overworld, find a cave, mine...24 irons ore, smelt them and then craft the anvil. He fought well, thought. Got to the overworld by suicide in an attempt to get a better chance, but didn’t nearly get enough iron to do his block.

So yeah, basically, he lost. And this was why he was in this situation, this was why he always was in those situations where you had no other choice than to wonder why you made the decisions that lead you there.

The feather light touch of a nail at the base of his throat made him jump, a shiver racing through him close after as his wild eyes opened to settle on the figure towering over him. Well, towering was a strong word, for the fact that the man above was a few good inches shorter than him. But it was not about being tall right now. It was about control. And that control, he sure didn’t have it, not with his wrists tied up above his head, the solid metal of the headboard keeping his hands high, allowing him a bit of movement to not strain his shoulders too much, but certainly not enough movement to be able to even _touch_ the man. It was annoying, to say the least, especially when his counterpart’s lips split into a cocky grin, warm brown eyes mocking him, sparkling with mischievousness and the promise of an interesting next hour, or more.

( _They had a deal. “No full course” had said Dream with a hint of amusement, knowing that neither of them were at this level yet. George was still too uncertain about pretty much everything, and even if Dream was a go-with-the-flow kinda dude, he still was very respectful of the clear lines drawn by his friend. “No_ _BDSM_ _._ _I mean, maybe like, just... no SM._ _” Had added the smaller with a hint of red in his cheeks, provoking a terrible, terrible smirk from the younger. “Not yet.” He had answered, and the sputtered curses that had followed were_ _entirely_ _worth it._ )

So apart from these very few added clauses, the field was still pretty open for a lot of opportunities, and of course George had jumped on the one where he could do anything without any risk of consequences. And the way he had asked for his reward as soon as they had closed their computer, his hip cocked against the frame of his door, attitude tainted with that arrogance he gained after a victory, eyelids heavy and voice all casual as his lips formed the words “blindfold” and “tying”.

To be fair, he was not mad at it. Just incredibly unnerved, and mildly aroused, and very, very worried. Not that he didn’t trust George. Not at all, not even a little. But listen, most of the time he was the one leading. Initiating. Whether it’d be for a nice cuddle on the couch or a hot session of make out against the kitchen table, he would usually be the one to take the first step. And he had absolutely no problem with it, and sure was happy when it was the oldest who made the first move too, but... but when it came to it, they were very different. Dream was easy going in pretty much everything, except when he became competitive. So his style was on the same wavelength when it came to demonstrating affection. He gave hugs like handshakes, he was shameless with his touches, always reaching for him and pressing against him, cuddling on the couch on any occasion, pulling George against him constantly like it was easier to breathe when he was in close proximity. Not necessarily in a romantic way, mind you. Casual could be the middle name of his attitude, between Nonchalant and Cocky. He was as touchy with some of his other friends, just not as often. And maybe not as intimate. And surely not accompanied by few seances of groping during movies.

George, however... he was much less demonstrative. Not in a cold way, and what he lacked in constancy he made up in intensity. Making out with him when he started it was very different. Deliberate. Sensual. Torturous in the best way. Slow kisses that ended with small bites, the caress of lips against his neck, hands lazily dragging through his hair. He was steady where Dream was wild, light where Dream was aggressive, and both were equally demanding in their own ways.

So being at his mercy, in a way that was certainly leading to activities closely related to making out, was a good enough reason for Dream to freak out a little bit. In a good way. Maybe. At least it was comforting that he had a quick way to stop it all if needed.

( _“A safeword, Dream. We are not doing that without one.” Hard conversation, as always when it came to something close to a limit. “It’s not like I will need it, I’m going to win. So chose it, Gogy.”_

_He sure was eating his words now._ )

The shiver was followed by goosebumps, when the nail slowly lowered toward his navel in a straight line, the touch barely more than a whisper against his skin. It still was enough to made his stomach tense, hissing a laugh as it passed a ticklish spot. He groaned in despair when the finger stilled, and could almost feel the childish smugness coming from the oldest. He was surprised when George didn’t take advantage of this newly found knowledge, laying a warm hand over his side, right below his ribcage. There was something in his free hand, Dream finally noticed, and his eyes shifted to see what it was. His eyebrow lowered as he understood what it was. _The blindfold, of course_. He looked back toward his face, glaring slightly and pinching his lips. He wouldn’t back off, but he still wanted to at least show his disagreement in some kind of way. Not that it bothered the older one, apparently, his smirk only growing as he saw his expression. He lowered himself over his torso, both hand reaching toward his face, not even asking for his opinion before pressing himself close, laying on him to be able to balance and use his arms to reach for the back of his head. The soft material slid over his eyes easily, pressing close and opaque, cutting any source of light from the outside.

That was not some random tie he found in the back of a drawer or anything close. “Since when do you have that thing?” He could almost feel the embarrassment coming from his friend, even with his eyes covered. He didn’t know if the warmth coming from him was from the red in his cheeks or just natural body heat, but he liked to think that he was the cause of it. There was a mumbled answer from the oldest, something along the line of “a while” and “shut up”. His lips tilted in a grin, but he lost it quick enough when his friend finished tying the blindfold, one of his hands tangling through his hair to grab few strands firmly, pulling his head backward, throat exposed and vision totally stolen. It took him a few seconds to realize how strung up he was, his body tense and alert, his new inability to see making him hypersensitive to everything happening. He could hear the shuddering breathe escaping his own lungs, the warmth of the other’s slow exhale against his lips, so, so close to his lips. The focus on it made him anticipate the contact, and he was becoming impatient with the time it took for it to happen. Which ended up being longer than he even thought, since the lips actually moved away, making contact against his chin and sliding down his jawline. He drew in a sharp breath when nails slightly dug against his side and were dragged along his skin, light enough to not cause any damage.

It was, at the same time, better and worse than he had imagined. Not that he had had much time to do so, as he was so sure of himself that he didn’t get to think about his demise. He was surprised with how effective the vulnerability turned him on. He would have guessed so the other way around, probably, but had never thought about it much with him on this side of the blindfold, if he was to be honest. He couldn’t complain much, or actually he could complain a lot about how tense this made him, how unbelievably frustrated it was going to be for him, how he couldn’t touch him or drag him close or force him down the bed...better not go down that alley, he certainly didn’t need to amplify the arousal even more. The fact was still that he could maybe, possibly admit that it wasn’t that bad. Under blackmail. And torture. But he could admit it. And that was probably worse than the entire situation in itself. And better, too, because well, who didn’t like exploring their sexuality and finding a new thing they liked? Some people surely, but not him. He just was too prideful to actually say it but he could still enjoy it.

Teeth tugged at his earlobe playfully. He couldn’t stop the shudder that shook him slightly, making George stifle a mean laugh against the skin of his neck. He felt teeth again, light, against his throat, the hand on his side moving slowly against his skin, palm pressed firmly over his ribs, fingertips bumping along the slight raise of the bones under his flesh. He hissed in surprise when a nail caught on his nipple, confused for a second at the sensation it did. Of course he was aware of how nipples were supposed to be more sensitive than the rest of the skin, in certain cases. It had never really been his case, thought, but now that he focused on it, he could feel his skin ripples with shiver at the lightest contact with the hardened bud. That was new. “Sensitive?” There was something mocking in his voice, and he couldn’t help but growl at him as if it would do anything to help him. The demeaning chuckle was there again, and the older was close enough that he could feel the huff and puff of his breath against his collarbone. He visibly was having fun with this, mocking him for his loss and greatly enjoying the fruit of his victory.

Dream wasn’t a child nor a brat, but damn did that made him want to sulk and pout. Neither of them were good losers, but they both also were terrible winners.

He finally opened his mouth to snark at the oldest but his words were cut at the root when George’s body slid backward, his lips following the movement and ending on his chest as his ass pressed right over the bulge slowly growing in his pants. He almost choked on air with surprise, pulling on his tied arms, forgetting he didn’t have any access to his hands. He closed his fingers over the material circling wrists, holding it like it would help him stay grounded. No chance it would happen, he already knew it, but he could still hope to keep some kind of control over himself. He couldn’t help but buck up his hips a bit as he felt the smaller man readjust himself over his lap to be more comfortable. His head was finally released, both hands sliding over his waist to pin it to the bed. It didn’t do much to keep his hips from canting forward, but it certainly limited the movements of his lower body. He didn’t think the restriction was really meant to stop him, probably more a way for the older to stabilize himself and keep him from moving enough to throw him away if he wanted to. Not that he would. Ever. Especially not when the British boy was straddling him, pressed against him in such a delicious way. “Knew you’d enjoy being a loser.” The murmured mockery made him hiss in displeasure. That was something they never lost, that stupid competitive strike, always following in every situation of their life. He sneered at the older, even if he couldn’t see him, and he was rewarded with a harsh bite at the base of his neck, the other boy tsking at him like he was scolding a particularly difficult child. “You can deny all you want, dreamie,” he started with the same kind of intonation, taking a small pause to grind his ass against the very obvious bulge in the taller’s pants, making him choke on the retort he was already trying to spit out “But I can feel how much you enjoy it.”

He was still about to protest in some way when he was once again rudely interrupted, lips clashing against his own in a kiss that had nothing of the subtle, lascivious way he was treated until now. It was clearly a show of dominance, and he had no way of overpowering it, hands fighting the restrains as the older grabbed at his chin to tilt his head just so, forcing him to follow instead of leading. Teeth caught on his bottom lip when he refused to let George gain entry so easily, a thumb pressing firmly against the bottom of his jaw to force it open. The kiss deepened for a short while, just enough to make him hungry for more, his neck craning as he tried to follow the lips that were leaving him. The ragged chuckle pulled out of the older man left him mostly annoyed, but also a bit more turned on. “You were the one to make the bet, Dream. I won it fair and square-” “Fair and sq-” “You never said I couldn’t mess with your portal. Fair and square, Dream. Now you have to shut up, stop being a whiny little bitch, and give me what I want.” He would forever deny the shiver that ran through him after those words. The older wasn’t exactly assertive usually, and seeing that side of him made him hot in a way he didn’t understand, nor wanted to, to be honest. He scoffed and turned his head as if it changed anything, except for making him look like a pouting kid. His little tantrum was very short lived, however, as he felt the pressure of the hands on his face disappear to get back toward his waist, the tip of his fingers always in contact with his skin. It was unnerving, once again, the light contact making his skin raise but didn’t provide any more input than a slight tickle and a minimal presence.

He sucked in a breath as the hands lowered even more, teasing along the band of his sweatpants. He knew they couldn’t be lowered yet with the older sitting on him like that, but the mere idea of it being a possibility was enough for him at that point. The want was like an itch under his skin, a buzz of restlessness. He was not ready when teeth closed on the skin of his neck, a gasp pushing out of his lungs forcefully, a dirty grind from the older’s hips making him groan under his breath. The blindfold was annoying him now, he wished he could see how George looked over him, how his face flushed when he rolled his hips over him, how affected he was by the feeling of his cock nestled against his ass. The oldest always was a bit of a prude in a way, flustered on the rare occasions they slept together and Dream couldn’t help pushing his morning erection against him just to see how red he would become from the contact. How he couldn’t help but refuse to sit in his lap, red high on his cheeks and words underlined with some kind of skittish offence. But maybe that was it, that was the reason why he felt so agitated by the blindfold. With no eyes on him, the older could hide every weakness, every crack in the mask. Only what he filtered through could reach him, and it presented him like such a different person. Controlled, mirthful, firm. Without any of the fluster, the stutters, the blushes. Why did it make it so much more hotter? He was so turned on. How did he not realize how turned on he was? The impatience was simmering in his blood, making him want to kick, to struggle, but the nails slowly digging against the skin of his hips was a warning he couldn’t ignore. He technically was at his mercy.

And fuck if he didn’t like it.

The teeth left his skin for merely a second before reaching a second spot a bit higher, digging painfully but not enough to actually break the skin. He felt George move his body, thighs spreading on each side of him to leave some space between them. He didn’t understand, at first, his brain mildly fried by all the sensory inputs he was getting. But then everything was leaving, pressure gone everywhere, and he choked back a whine, not wanting to make a sound to prove George right. After few seconds of shuffling, he felt a hand grab at his sweatpants hastily, pulling them down. He jumped at the sensation, his lack of vision preventing him from knowing in advance what would happen, hissing through his teeth at the disbelieving laugh coming from the British boy. “Oh, Dreamie, were you expecting something today?” He had to bite back a smartass answer, knowing it would do no good. They both knew very well it wasn’t uncommon for him to go commando when he didn’t plan on leaving the house, mainly out of laziness. Getting that habit used against him in such a way made him want to snap, but he knew what game the older was playing, and he refused to give him victory by reacting. There was a few more seconds where nothing happened, but he could hear the quiet noise of material being dropped on the floor. The taller man couldn’t help but gasp as a finger travelled along his outer thigh, making his muscles tense and relax in quick succession. His body tried to follow the finger, his leg lightly bending at the knee to try and get more pressure from the too-light touch. A muffled giggle answered his try and the pressure left quickly. “Are you still going to deny the fact that you are enjoying this?” He didn’t bother answering him, pressing his lips in a thin line to show his displeasure. “Come on, Dream. I want an answer.” The voice was firmer now, had an edge to it. He could barely try to form an answer, probably the wrong one, before a nail was dragged along the underside of his cock. “Fuck, George!” The touch left as soon as it started and his hips twitched up, trying to chase the feeling desperately.

“An answer, Dream.” The American took a minute to find some working braincells, his tongue heavy in his mouth as he tried to articulate something that could win him some more contact. “M’not..” “You’re not? Not what?” He could hear the damn smirk, but couldn’t find in it him to try and fight it. His head was swimming with the need to be touched, his dick was throbbing, his skin was so hot he was surprised he didn’t burst into flame yet. He still needed to say something, didn’t he? “Not denying.” A quick kiss that he didn’t have time to enjoy was pressed against his lips, a reward he was not expecting but was enjoying nonetheless. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” The dirty joke that came by automatism was cut short as fingers circled his erection loosely, barely any pressure once again, but still more than he had been given until now. He panted shamelessly, pulling once again at his wrists without much strength. “Now that you are not denying it anymore, how about you admit it?” It took him a second to even understand the sentence, the pad of the fingers around his cock sliding delicately along his skin, more of a tease than anything else, but a sure way to make him go totally insane in mere minutes. “Admit what?” He could practically hear the godawful grin in the oldest’s voice when he lowered his face close to his ear. “Admit that you enjoy being a _loser._ ” Hitting where it hurt was a specialty for the Brit, and it showed in the worst moments. As soon as the words left his mouth Dream tensed, competitive strike revived with that single statement, but it was quickly snuffed out of him as the hand around him got tighter, thumb pressing right under his frenulum. He choked on a moan and canted his hips up, trying to get something out of that pressure. “C’mon Dream, I told you. You have to give me what I want, this time. I won. Give me what I want, or you don’t get what you want.” And if it wasn’t enough to convince the younger, the firm but slow stroke he gave him surely was enough to break his resolve.

“George- I won’t- Fuck, c’mon, please, just-” “That’s not what I want to hear.” The smaller boy tugged at his counterpart ears with his teeth before getting to his lips once again, barely brushing them together, lifting his head every time the younger would try to get him to kiss him. His free hand lifted to slide in the blonde strands of hair again, gripping them tight to force him to stay still. “Tell me,” he murmured against his lips, his hands slowly moving, cruelly denying him of more than torturous pleasure that would basically lead to edging much more than completion. “Tell me and I’ll even get on my knees for you.” He offered amiably, like it wasn’t something he never actually did before. It punched a needy sound out of Dream’s throat, his thighs twitching uncontrollably as the younger slipped into fantasies for a quick moment. Getting on his knees was more of a proverbial way of offering a blowjob, considering they were both on a bed, but the way it was said was, for some reason, even more of a punch in the guts for him.

( _Dream had never exactly been subtle with his desires toward the ol_ _dest, his eyes predatory and almost manic as he watched the Brit kneeling in front of his computer to rearrange the wires under his desk. “Can’t wait for you to kneel like that for me.” He had said, dark and hungry._

_George had been so embarrassed he had hit his head on his desk in his haste to get up, making Dream wheeze with laughter for a good 20 minutes after that._ )

“Wha- what do you-” He groaned as the hand on his cock left to slide down his thigh, pushing against it to make some space for himself. Every touches disappeared again and he almost panicked for a second, but soon enough George settled between his legs, casual like he never was, nails slowly dragging against his inner thighs. “You know what I want to hear, don’t make me repeat it.” He could feel a bit more movement and then- the slightest puff of air right against his cock. It took everything left in him to not jerk his hips up to rub against the older’s face. “Fuck, fuck, fine I don’t care, I enjoy losing, I fucking love being a loser, come on, come on-” He bit down on his bottom lip as a hand firmly pressed his hips on the bed, the other one sliding back around his cock to keep it in a good angle for the Brit’s lips to wrap around the head. He honestly did not expect it to go this fast, but he couldn’t exactly complain at that point. He was a mess already, shaking with pent-up energy, throat letting out the weirdest sounds he ever heard himself make. He was already out of his mind, half from the surprise, half from the sensations. Not seeing was definitely a big part of this, on both account, and he now could understand why people enjoyed it. The feeling of vulnerability was also messing with him, and he didn’t like it as much as the sensitivity coming with the lack of vision, but he sure didn’t hate it. Without his eyes, he could focus on the sensations so much more. Could feel the soft pressure from George’s lips, the scorching heat of his mouth, the texture of his tongue as he deliberately swiped it over his slit. The way his thumb was dragging along the underside of his cock to add to the mounting pleasure.

But he couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see him with his mouth around his cock, and that was something he couldn’t handle. It was a show he didn’t want to miss, especially since it was the first time it was happening. “Wait- George please, I wanna, wanna see you-” He ground out, trying to reign in the pleasure for the sake of articulating his thoughts. There was no words from the older, just a sudden loss of that warmth over his dick, shaky fingers grabbing at the material blocking his vision and pulling it up carelessly. The blonde blinked quickly to adjust to the light, and he groaned at the sight. The smaller man had lost his cockiness, his cheeks as red as an apple and his eyes glazed over with lust. His rosy lips were wet, and he didn’t even need to taste to know that it was probably not just saliva. The brunette ducked back quickly, either too shy to be looked at in that state, or too impatient to wait for him to regain some semblance of composure. Dream could only groan again as he saw those lips part to get back on his erection, catching the glance the older sent him through his lashes. “Fuck, you’re so hot Georgie, so fucking beautiful-” he moaned shamelessly this time around, hips twitching up without his consent. He watched, rapt, as the Brit let his cock slide further in his mouth without protesting. His hand went back to his hip, more of a safety measure than a real hold. “Look so good like this, I knew you would-” He got cut off as George, either annoyed or embarrassed by his speech, made a show of sliding his lips down the length of his cock, taking as much as he was comfortable with before going back up and swirling his tongue around his glans, exploring around to get as much reaction as he could out of the American. “Fuck, not gonna last if you- if you do that.”

It was all that needed to be said, the Brit starting a slow pace that made it all the more agonizing in the best way. Dream felt like he was melting into the bed, the pleasure building in a way that made him feel like he was about to explode, but it was still piling up. He was about to offer some words of encouragement, out of his mind with need, when he felt the change. George was maybe feeling more confident, or maybe he just knew what Dream wanted -no, needed-, but in any case the pressure of his mouth became tighter, and he could feel the pressure of the suction around his cock. He was glad that the hand on his hips became firmer at the same time, because the way his hips automatically jerked up would probably have pushed his erection into the other’s throat, which was not something that should happen for a first time. The sensation overcame him quickly, and he could hear himself babble nonsensical praises between moans and sighs that ended in whines. He was so, so close. He pulled at his restrains, panting a warning to the brunette, feeling his dick pulse within it’s warm confine.

The first spurt of cum hit George’s tongue, making him retract his mouth quick enough, but his hands continued the job to not break the waves of pleasure crashing on his friend. He made sure to soften the strokes as it went, only stopping when the younger started to make small sounds of discomfort, oversensitiveness taking over. They stayed quiet for a moment, the brunette slowly untying the youngest’s hands, unconsciously massaging his wrists before making sure his shoulders were okay. Dream sighed contently, watching with amusement as the other reached for the bottle of water he left on his side table. “Yeah, it’s an acquired taste.” he joked weakly, making the older scrunch his nose in disgust. He felt like jelly, half melted into the bed, heavy with exhaustion and sated in a way he didn’t often experience. He could feel his friend move a bit around, settling against his side without the usual hesitation he had when it was time to make physical contact with the younger. With a small groan, Dream rolled over his friend, making his squeak in protest. The taller hands trailed under the t-shirt the oldest was still wearing, sporting a smirk that had no place on his face after the little battle of will he just lost. He rumbled a dark chuckle, slipping a leg between the Brit’s thighs, admiring the way his cheeks burned and his lips split open in a small gasping breathe. He slowly ground his thigh up against the hard bulge in the oldest’s pants, taking his lips in an ardent kiss, short and sensual, before looking at his friend in the eyes. “I bet I can make you come in less than five minutes.”

The fire starting in George’s eyes was enough of an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, first time here
> 
> hope you enjoyed and didn't notice too much mistakes 
> 
> and if you kinda like my style and want me to try and write stuff you have in mind, I'm very open to ideas


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